


please, don't say you love me

by sapphoblade



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Fake/Pretend Relationship, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, but theres gonna b some miscommunication just to add ~flavour~, or more like friends to fake bfs to lovers lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26883304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphoblade/pseuds/sapphoblade
Summary: in today's fake dating AU, we have "hajime is too dense to realise he's pining over his best friend, and he's definitely too dense to realise that the feeling is mutual and his best friend is also pining over him"
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 18
Kudos: 119





	1. tell me "dont"

**Author's Note:**

> aHHH omg i haven't written anything in a while but im back !! ik this iz kinda short but i actually plan on updating it regularly wjhfsk so yea i hope yall enjoy it! also i know it kinda seems like its gonna b hinanami but i swear its just hajime being an idiot n being unable to tell the difference between platonic and romantic love lmao

“Hajime,” the pink-haired girl began, staring up from the handheld device that her eyes were glued to ninety percent of the time (the other ten percent she could probably be found either napping, or technically awake but far too caught up in her daydreams to be classed as  _ actually  _ awake). “Is there something wrong? Your face looks kind of funny.” Chiaki finished plainly, immediately diverting her gaze back to the Nintendo she’d been playing on after the sentence left her mouth. 

Hajime didn’t reply right away, being that he was completely caught off guard by both her bluntness, and the realisation that he had momentarily been the centre of her undivided attention. That didn’t happen often, despite them having been close friends since they were pretty young. She only ever paid much mind to the outside world if there was something she was worried about, or something she deemed more important than her animal crossing village. And said village was of the utmost importance, of course. So - though Hajime appreciated that she noticed he was fidgeting, just like he always did when he got nervous - he couldn’t help but feel slightly intimidated by what her lazy stare was insinuating. 

The more he thought about it, the more obvious it became that her remark wasn’t actually particularly surprising. After all, they’d essentially grown up together; living on the same street served as a good enough basis for them to start being friends (because that’s just how a kid’s brain works), but they’d ended up getting along so well that they’d stuck by each other’s side throughout their highschool years. Even after all that time, there they were, sitting beside each other in a library on their college campus, one about to confess to the other about the feeling he couldn’t quite explain, but had labelled as romantic love. “Ah, it’s fine, I was just thinking. It’s not that big of a deal, but, uh, there  _ was _ something I wanted to ask.” he watched her once he’d finished speaking, awaiting some kind of affirmation from the shorter girl.

“Sure, go ahead.” she replied, still focused on her game and unbothered by Hajime’s odd shift in tone. 

_Shit, this is it, huh? I’m finally going to stop being such a wimp and just... ask her out? Damn._ Taking a deep breath, he paused for a second, running over the lines he’d practiced in his head a million times before. All he had to do was ask her out. It was an infinitely simpler task than Hajime was making it out to be, but he couldn’t help overthinking it. Hajime wasn’t entirely sure if what he felt even was love, since he was rather inexperienced in that field, but he knew Chiaki made him happy, and he cared about her a lot - there was no doubt about that. And she was pretty, too. Still, he’d always imagined love as something more grand and magical, like a feeling that wouldn’t need any kind of reassurance. He’d just _know. That’s probably just me being dumb, though. Yeah, my nerves are getting the best of me. I just have to get on with it, I guess._

“Um. So,” he spoke with bated breath, though he couldn’t tell if he was hesitating more out of uncertainty, or actual nervousness.  _ Fuck it, there’s no going back now.  _ “Do you maybe want to go on, like, I don’t know. Like a date, or something?”

Putting her Nintendo down, she turned to stare at the boy beside her with a sympathetic look.  _ Oh no. I’ve made a mistake, haven’t I?  _ “Hajime, you do know I have a girlfriend, right? The one from my graphic design class I was telling you about, Ibuki.” she said softly, reaching out to pat Hajime’s shoulder; an attempt to be comforting in some way, or at least, as comforting as she could manage to be. Chiaki had never really been the type of person to be physically affectionate, so shoulder pats were about as reassuring as it got.

_ Oh my god. I could’ve handled a rejection, but this? This is beyond embarrassing. Jesus Christ, I’m an idiot - and a bad friend.  _ He vaguely remembered somebody being mentioned before, but he’d been too focused on whatever he was doing at the time to actually internalise it. Which was something he’d now come to regret.  _ Fuck. Now I have to come up with something to get me out of this mess.  _ His brain whirred, fighting to think up an excuse to save the both of them from the awkwardness he knew would follow if he didn’t.  _ Ah, I’ve got it!  _

Hoping she wouldn’t notice his change in demeanour - or the fact that his bullshit excuse didn’t make much sense - he broke the silence between them, “What? Of course, I know! I hadn’t finished what I was saying,” he said, mock-sighing. “I was trying to ask if you wanted to go on a  _ double  _ date.”

She’d abandoned her Nintendo altogether now, which was proof enough that the gears in her head were turning, clearly trying to make sense of the garbage Hajime had chosen as a cover for his dumbassery. “A double date?” she started, Hajime gesturing for her to continue with a sharp nod and a quiet ‘mhm’. “So, you’re telling me you’re dating someone?” she deadpanned, though it was obvious the question wasn’t rhetorical.

Picking up on his cue to speak, he replied, “Yup. We’ve been dating for a while, but neither of us really wanted to make it public. Too much pressure, y’know?” It was a passable response, given the amount of time he had to conceive it. “I won’t tell you who it is yet, but we can meet a few days before the date - if you and Mioda-san do want to go on a date. It can be a surprise, it should be fun.”

“Ah, sure? I mean, Ibuki is almost definitely going to agree, and I don’t mind at all, so yeah. I won’t lie, I feel like half of what you said just now barely made sense, but I don’t have the energy to pester you for a coherent explanation, so I guess I’ll let you off the hook,” she giggled, playfully nudging Hajime’s shoulder. “Ah well, I’ve got a class to get to, but I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Yeah, see ya.” he said, sending a smile and a wave Chiaki’s way before pulling his phone out of his pocket. He had quite the dilemma to sort out whilst she was gone. He didn’t have long - they  hadn’t settled on a date yet, but it seemed he didn’t have more than a few weeks to figure out a plan. Keeping the time restriction in mind, he began typing with a newfound determination.

* * *

**hinata:** hey

**komaeda:** hiii hinata-kun !! how are u? :)

**hinata:** im good thanks lol

**hinata:** apart from one thing hdsfhjk

**komaeda:** oh ?? is it something i can help with ? 

**hinata:** uhh yea kinda i guess i was gonna ask u 

**komaeda:** go ahead !! im happy to do just about anything :D

**hinata:** aha okay so

**hinata:** this is weird and u can totally say no but

**hinata:** plz can u pretend to be my boyfriend for a bit?

**hinata:** we’d have to pretend for a while but i wont make u do anything thatd made u uncomfortable. n ofc i dont want u doing anything that makes me uncomfy lmao

**hinata:** aghh im sorry this is such a strange thing to ask haha i just didnt know who else to go to cuz i feel like u know me better than most ppl lol fshjkfsw so i feel like we could maybe make it work

**hinata:** like as in make it convincing lol idk

**hinata:** sorry im rambling ahaha

**hinata:** so u can say no but,,, are u up for it?

**komaeda:** ahh of course yeah !! i don’t mind at all !

**hinata:** wait omg fr? r u sure?

**komaeda:** mhm totally !!!!

**hinata:** ahh epic ur a lifesaver dude! thank u 

**komaeda:** wdhkdsw don’t worry abt it !! :3

**hinata:** wanna come to mine this week so we can sort out a story, set up some ground rules n stuff? i have tomorrow off so if ur not busy that could work

**komaeda:** yeah i’m free !! i’ll see u then !

**hinata:** thank u again haha

**hinata:** anyway lol bye goodnight 

**komaeda:** byee sweet dreams hinata-kun !!

  
Ignoring the rosiness on his cheeks and the slight smile that’d somehow made its way onto his face, he put his phone aside (because he probably looked like a downright idiot staring at a  _ phone screen  _ with a cheesy grin) and settled in his bed, shifting so he was comfortable enough to fall asleep. Not that he’d dare to ever admit it, but he still found himself getting oddly giddy over the prospect of fake-dating Nagito. No - that wasn’t it. The jitteriness was only because of the drama of the situation, obviously. It wasn’t like he  _ actually _ had feelings for him. That’d just be weird.


	2. a peach tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> idk they basically only ~talk~ cuz i ramble too much and i can't move the story forward without writing a thousand words of backstory :D

Nagito had shown up at his door sooner than Hajime had been anticipating, forcing him to greet Nagito looking nothing short of an absolute mess, equipped with bedhead, a hoodie thrown over a pyjama shirt, and a pair of patterned boxer shorts. In Nagito’s defense, the thought of actually specifying when he wanted him to turn up had slipped Hajime’s mind, so he couldn’t exactly blame him for his early arrival. Regardless, they’d been friends for as long as Hajime could remember, and had numerous sleepovers when they were younger, so being seen in such a state wasn’t exactly a huge deal. Still, for whatever reason, Hajime couldn’t shake the uncomfortable twisting in his gut, or the heat crawling up the back of his neck when he watched Nagito’s gaze drop from his face, down to the rest of his body, and back to his face again. 

“I really look  _ that _ terrible, huh?” he laughed, sleepiness still apparent in his slightly-deeper-than-usual voice. “I just woke up, sorry.” he chuckled again, welcoming Nagito inside and shutting the door behind them whilst he did so.

Nagito spoke hurriedly as he stepped inside, following Hajime as he guided him through the all too familiar route to his bedroom. “Ah, I’m so sorry for staring! I was just surprised. You look great, per usual, Hinata-kun. Don’t worry.” he smiled, flashing the same wonky smile that’d somehow wriggled its way into a fond corner of Hajime’s subconscious a long time ago. It was a smile that he’d committed to memory without even realising, a grin that he knew was always going to be accompanied by that weird indescribable feeling in his chest, like his heart was going to explode, or straight-up stop functioning. 

“I was only looking out of shock, I hadn’t realised I’d be the one to wake you - and I’m sorry about that, by the way,” he looked to the ground solemnly, but his face brightened when he spoke again. “I mean it though, you still look amazing! Infinitely better than I’ll ever look, that’s for sure.” he continued, occupying the short-lasted silence with self-deprecation.

Though he was well-accustomed to Nagito’s humble nature, it didn’t stop him from letting out an audible sigh every time he heard a comment like that leave Nagito’s mouth.  _ I mean, he’s obviously pretty as fuck. Like, objectively. And, of course, I think that in the way that any normal friend would, in the same way that a guy who’s not blind or completely dense would be able to tell when a dude is cute, even if they were as straight as a ruler.  _ “Dude, c’mon,” he started, playfully bumping shoulders with Nagito. “You’ve got to stop saying stuff like that. You know it’s not true. You look fine.” It wasn’t much of a compliment, and to an outsider his tone might’ve even seemed disinterested, but neither failed to notice the endearment behind the drawn-out syllables and brief physical contact. It’d always been how he showed his  _ (platonic, _ the voice in Hajime’s brain added) affection, and there was something comforting about knowing Nagito had quickly learnt to see that. 

“I disagree, of course, but... I do appreciate you saying that. Thank you, Hinata-kun.” he replied, suddenly breaking eye-contact with Hajime and deciding to find the fraying sleeves of his sweater wildly interesting, picking at a few of the loose threads whilst he set an intent stare on them. 

The bubbling in his stomach returned once again, but Hajime ignored it, clearing his throat and changing the subject as non-awkwardly as he could manage. “Uh, yeah. Of course, don’t worry about it. So, it’s probably time to form a game plan, right?” 

The success of whether he actually diffused the tension was debatable; Hajime was naturally a pretty awkward person, and he’d never managed to figure out why that element of his personality swung between extremes when he was around Nagito. He recalls the few times he’d noticed the euphoria of that tense feeling having dissipated, remembering countless nights spent drunk on sleep-deprivation, getting giddy off the high of tiredness, and pouring his heart out to Nagito as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. But after some time, he found that the disconcerting feeling in his gut that followed had always been a hundred times more agonising, and more confusing, than the uniform, reliable awkwardness from before the hours of announcing nonsensical jokes, and disclosing (what were supposed to be) undisclosable secrets. So, they’d stopped having those sleepovers, stopped sharing those strangely fragile moments that Hajime sometimes caught himself thinking about on quiet nights alone. They carried on hanging out, of course - but, as they got older, tender moments were replaced with hushed study nights in each other's dorms. And, though they both still found the company comforting, it wasn’t really the same. He wondered if it would ever be the same.

Snapping Hajime out of his impromptu minute of reflection, Nagito waved a notebook around his face, finally managing to disturb his odd daze and bring Hajime back to reality. Taking a seat on the edge of Hajime’s bed, he spoke again, “I think you might’ve zoned out there for a minute,” After letting out a soft giggle, he continued, “But yes, you’re right. We should definitely sort out a plan. Do you have any ideas about where we should start?”

Hajime groaned, throwing himself onto the mattress in such a reckless manner that he was probably inches away from crashing into Nagito, who was politely sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed. Whilst staring up at the ceiling with a thoughtful look, he replied, “Honestly, I don’t know. I guess I should apologise for being an idiot, ‘cause I can already tell how stressful this is going to get, and not just for me, for the both of us. Y’know, it’s not too late to back out if you don’t feel like doing this anymore.”

Hajime got a peripheral view of Nagito shuffling closer towards him, but kept his gaze trained on the ceiling while the other spoke. “Hinata-kun, I agreed to this because I  _ want  _ to help you. I don’t care if it’s draining, I just want to be of use.”

He stayed silent, not sure how he should react to that response. Though it wasn’t what he was expecting, hearing such a remark from Nagito was nothing out of the ordinary. He’d always talked about feeling this sense of indebtitude to Hajime, which was slightly worrying, but Hajime supposed he wasn’t exactly in a place to complain, what with Nagito’s loyalty becoming particularly useful in times like these. Nonetheless, it wasn’t like he didn’t worry. Hajime constantly thought about how easy it’d be to accidentally cross some invisible line, to dumbly ignore a type of unspoken boundary, simply because Nagito had chosen to centre his entire personality around being some kind of stupid sacrificial martyr. Unfortunately, Hajime was undeniably terrible at picking up on social cues, so all he had to rely on was Nagito’s word. Even if he could be lying, Hajime wanted to check. Just in case. 

“You’re sure?” he asked, prompting a gentle, “Hm?” from Nagito. It seemed he’d been speechless long enough for Nagito to get caught up in his own thoughts too. “You’re sure you want to do this, right? And please, don’t give me any of that ‘for the sake of hope’ or the ‘greater good’ bullshit,” he paused, and spoke quieter, lower, essentially whispering when he returned to his sentence. “Just tell me, honestly, if you’re actually okay with this. I know it seems like I’m making a big deal out of nothing, but I care about you, or whatever. I want to know that you’re not just doing this ‘cause you feel like you have to. ‘Cause you  _ don’t _ have to.” He sat up, finding Nagito’s face a lot closer to his own than he realised he would.

He waited for a response, brows knitted whilst he looked back at Nagito for an answer. The silence was basically deafening, the room was a thousand times warmer than it was about two minutes ago, and,  _ oh my God, have his eyes always that green? _

“Yeah.”

“Huh?”

“Yes. As in, yes, I want to help.”


	3. night breeze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i caved and included the sharing a bed trope lmao

Hajime shuffled backwards until he could feel his spine pressed firmly against the headboard of his bed, because friends should  _ not  _ sit that close to each other, and friends definitely shouldn’t make his throat go scarily dry or turn his face alarmingly red. “So, planning stuff, huh? We should probably move onto that now. I think,” he breathed between sentences, heavily enough for it to be concerning. He just hoped Nagito wouldn’t notice. ”Moving on would be a good idea, probably. Yup. That’s something we should do now. Moving on.” he sputtered.

Nagito merely laughed, either not noticing the absurdity of what happened, or choosing to just ignore whatever  _ that  _ exchange was. “Yeah, we should do that. I think I might have some ideas about where to start with the fake backstory, if you think that’d be helpful.” he offered calmly, as if they hadn’t been able to feel the heat of each other’s breath against their faces only seconds ago.

* * *

After a couple hours of making extensive notes that consisted of a timeline based off of their genuine _(platonic,_ the voice in Hajime’s brain made sure to add) relationship and actual experiences, it was about 11pm, and the pair were too exhausted to bother moving from where they'd been sitting on the bed. The uncomfortably tense ambience had died out surprisingly quickly, and they’d been able to make significant progress with their plan once the awkwardness passed. And, though it was tiring, the workload wasn’t as demanding as he’d been expecting; they’d swiftly come to the realisation that they wouldn’t need to construct nearly as many lies as they’d been expecting to, all they had to do was twist the truth a bit and it made for a convincing narrative. 

“Oi, Komaeda. Shall I order pizza, or something? You can head back to your own dorm now if you want, obviously, but if you're as tired as I am, I'm guessing the prospect of moving in any way seems shitty right now.” he pointed out, already raising his phone to place an order.

“If it’s not too much of a burden for me to stay any longer,” he started, meeting Hajime’s gaze with a familiar stare, one full of self-pity, carrying a message that was probably something along the lines of, ‘I hate myself, so I’m going to assume you hate me too. But please, tell me that you don’t hate me.’ Hajime knew exactly what the look meant - and exactly how to reply, so he sat, waiting for Nagito to finish speaking before he spat out the same rehearsed counter he always did. Not that he didn’t mean what he was saying, but the process had become so much of a routine that it’d begun to get frustrating.  _ Why can’t he get it through his thick fucking skull that people care about him? That I care about him?  _ He remembers the thoughts that ran through his head the first time he had to reassure Nagito. He was a lot younger back then, so his anger and confusion were both entirely justified, but although Hajime had certainly come to understand why Nagito felt that way once he grew older, he still caught himself grumpily wishing Nagito could just get over his insecurities and see himself the way Hajime saw him. They both knew it wasn’t as easy as that, though.

No longer holding eye-contact, Nagito continued, “If so - then yeah, I’d love to.”

After face-palming and sighing in a way that was so insufferably dramatic it’d be impossible not to pick up on, Hajime replied, “Komaeda. We’ve literally known each other since we were, like, five. We’ve been best friends for basically our entire lives, obviously I’m cool with you staying.” Having had an epiphany mid-sentence, he paused almost comically, the kind of pause where you’d expect to see a bright yellow lightbulb pop up above one's head. He figured he could use this situation to his advantage and possibly make an attempt to prove to Nagito that he wasn’t even remotely similar to the repulsive monster he made himself out to be. “Actually, I’m so completely, entirely and absolutely cool with it, that I think you should stay the night.” 

Nagito almost began speaking, but Hajime raised a hand before he could launch into another one of his dreadfully long monologues. He’d heard about fifty different variations of those speeches (and was definitely not in the mood to hear another), so he carried on delivering his new suggestion, simply pretending that Nagito hadn’t even tried to disagree; Hajime was doing so mainly out of spite - because maybe, just maybe, _ _ that day could finally be the day he managed to help Nagito abandon his dumb saviour complex and realise wishing harm upon himself wasn’t actually helping anybody. 

Determined, he spoke again, “Nope, sorry dude, I don’t want to hear it.” Nagito pouted at his statement, prompting a soft chuckle from Hajime before he reasoned, “Seriously though, we used to do it all the time, it wouldn’t hurt for you to stay over one more night - even if it’s been a while. I mean, fuck, I won’t deny that you can be annoying as hell sometimes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like you. You know that, right?”

He was expecting at least somewhat of a stubborn protest from the other, but all he got in return was a quiet mumble.

“I, uh, didn’t catch that. What were you saying?” he questioned, talking more gently than before, hints of concern shadowing his words. He figured that Nagito’s expression called for some sense of worry (and of course, he did worry), but he wasn’t totally sure why. Hajime sincerely could not tell if Nagito was about to start crying, or burst into laughter. Given the way Nagito had acted in the past, neither would really be described as uncharacteristic. Despite having been close for nearly all their lives, a lot of what went on in Nagito’s head remained an enigma to Hajime, and his reactions could be anywhere on a scale from unjustified anger directed at himself - or his ‘luck cycle’, to complete nonchalance and acceptance of anything and everything that went wrong. 

“I said, do you mean it? You’re telling me you  _ genuinely _ care, even about someone as despicable as me?” he almost whispered, talking as if he felt like speaking any louder would cause his already fragile body to shatter into a million pieces. Hajime didn’t mind the low tone though, it made the moment feel more tender, in a sense. 

Still - as much as he wanted to reciprocate, to mirror his gentle behaviour, he didn’t know how. Or didn’t want to try and figure out how, maybe, because the first step in making an attempt to mimic Nagito’s change in attitude was acknowledging the all-too-scary feelings he’d worked so hard to repress. There was no chance he could preserve the delicate atmosphere that’d been building until he managed to find the courage to unpack the little suitcase in the back of his mind that’s been telling him, ‘you’re in love with your best friend, you always have been.’ Whilst he awaited the day that’d happen, he would be deprived of the ability to act all stupid and mushy and sweet, unable to be like the protagonists in those dumb rom-coms the two of them used to watch all the time when they were younger. Naturally, they’d only ever watched them to mock the unrealistic situations and the irrationality of the characters, but Hajime found that the conversation taking place in that very moment sounded like something straight out of those silly movies.

As expected, despite his conflicted internal monologue, he opted to pursue his ambitions of ignoring the truth, hoping that his feelings would simply disappear with the passing of time. They almost certainly wouldn’t, but that didn’t mean that Hajime wasn’t going to pretend that suppressing those emotions was a foolproof plan. He laughed before speaking, but it wasn’t out of malice. It was faint and temperate, possibly even affectionate if one read into it enough. “Of course I care about you, you idiot. C’mere, you know the drill.” he said, motioning for Nagito to lean into his extended arms.

Nagito shuffled towards him, silently accepting the offer and collapsing into the body of the boy beside him. Neither said anything, and a comforting blanket of calm settled over the two of them. It was intimate, but a strange branch of intimacy, not quite crossing the boundary between platonic and romantic - they’d found themselves in more of an ambiguous grey zone. In truth, they’d essentially spent their entire friendship stuck in the limbo between best friends, and not  _ exactly _ boyfriends, but close enough for other people to point out quirks of their relationship that they’d never classed as odd, but apparently were weird enough to prompt sets of full-mouthed laughter from Hajime’s other friends, like Kazuichi and Ibuki. He tried not to dwell on it too much though, reminding himself that Nagito was only a friend. That being said, he was a friend who he’d have to pretend ( _ emphasis on ‘pretend’ _ , Hajime’s mind clarified) to date for the next few weeks, but regardless, he wasn’t genuinely anything more than a friend. Hajime was just overthinking things, just letting another one of his stupid habits get the better of him. 

Resting his hands on Nagito’s shoulders, he pulled away and broke their embrace. Barely so, but enough to meet the other’s mossy green eyes. “You feeling better now?” Hajime asked in an attempt to adjust the stillness of the room. Nagito didn’t  _ look  _ much better than before (worse even, his eyes were glossed over with the remnants of tears, and his body was trembling slightly) but Hajime wasn’t so blunt that he’d go as far as declaring that out loud.

“Mhm. Thank you, Hajime.” Nagito said slowly, the effects of the mildly taxing work from earlier conveniently setting in. Somehow already half-asleep, he flopped forwards back onto Hajime, absent-mindedly wrapping his arms around the other’s waist and resting his head against his chest.

Too taken aback by Nagito’s sudden tiredness to even begin processing that he’d chosen to use his given name - something they hadn’t referred to each other by since they were kids - he tried speaking, “Hey, Komaeda? Um, we haven’t ordered food yet, and you’re going to end up with an ache in your neck, or something, if you try sleeping like this.” A beat passed and Nagito hardly stirred, seemingly deciding not to move. “Dude, c’mon. At least let me move out of the way so you can lie down properly.”

All he received in return was a murmur of the sole word ‘sleepy’ against his chest, followed by the weight of Nagito’s head pushing the remainder of his body towards the mattress, forcing the both of them to rest on their sides. Sighing, Hajime gave up on any plans to break free from the gentle clutch around his waist, and relaxed into his touch, mimicking the other’s actions and entangling his own limbs around Nagito’s. Once he’d pulled the duvet that he’d set aside earlier over the two of them, and was sure Nagito had fully fallen asleep, he whispered, “Goodnight, Nagito.”


End file.
